Fabre in Sacheon’s Tang Novel - Chapter 313

Chapter 313
Initially, I dismissed it as mere chance—a simple fluke of no consequence.
But when these supposed accidents begin to happen over and over, they cease to be just accidents.
A pair of roof tiles had dropped.
A door had fallen.
A broken window had abruptly swung inward.
Now, two more tiles successively broke away from the roof above.
I could no longer keep the question to myself.
“Is… is there some kind of ghost here!?”
I held Hyang close against me.
A chill of terror ran down my spine.
What people don’t understand frightens them, and ghosts are the ultimate embodiment of that fear.
‘I-I’m absolutely terrified!’
– Tsrrt? 『Ghost?』
– Kkii?
– Kyuit?
While I was frozen in fear, the little ones simply gazed back at me with large, inquisitive eyes.
I gathered them all into my arms, one after another.
– Kyuit.
– Kku-kuu!
I took hold of Dong-i’s hind leg and pulled her in. I tugged on Hongdan’s tail, drawing him into the hug along with a bundle of reeds he clutched.
– Kkiii.
– Kyuut!
I covered their mouths to prevent any noise, then ripped apart a stack of dry reeds and dug us down underneath.
At first, the children wriggled in my grasp—naturally bewildered at being pulled into hiding without any warning.
Dong-i’s front paw pressed against my jaw, and the tails of Seol and Bing quivered with unease beneath the covering.
However, once we were all settled under the reeds, their mood started to shift.
What had been confusing and abrupt suddenly turned into amusement.
– Tsrrr. 『This is fun.』
– Kyut!
One by one, their small heads emerged beside mine, peering out through the reeds at the shimmering light from the fire.
Children always enjoy games like hide-and-seek.
It reminded me of my own childhood, when I loved hiding under blankets or creating tents by throwing sheets over tables to crawl under.
Their questioning chirps came next.
– Tsrrt. 『But Daddy, what’s a ghost? And what are we doing right now?』
– Kkii?
– Kkukku?
They didn’t understand what a ghost was, but crowding together under the reeds and spying out felt like play. Their sounds were light and cheerful.
– Crackle, crackle.
Watching the firelight glint through the gaps, I attempted an explanation, keeping my voice hushed and careful.
“A ghost… well, it’s… something like the spirit of a person who has died…”
– Tsrrt? 『Spirit?』
“After a person dies, their spirit remains and—oh, man, how do I even explain this?”
Concepts like death and spirits are difficult to phrase for young minds.
As I struggled, Hyang instantly contacted Hwa-eun through our mental connection.
『– Tsrrrt? (Mommy, what’s a ghost?)』
‘Hyang, you’re still awake? And… asking about ghosts?’
I suppose it’s natural for children to turn to their mother when they don’t understand something.
Even though it was late, Hwa-eun responded immediately.
Hyang gave a very brief account of the situation.
『– Tsrrt. (Daddy said there’s a ghost here, but he couldn’t explain it.)』
A sense of warm amusement came across the link.
She likely thought I was engaging Hyang in some foolish make-believe.
Then her tender voice came through—calm and gentle, exactly how a mother should sound.
『A ghost is… let’s see, Hyang, imagine it like this: There is the part of you that thinks and speaks, and the part that is your physical body. When someone dies, their body goes away, but the thinking-speaking part remains. That is a ghost.』
Hyang tilted her head, not completely grasping it, and scratched her antenna with a claw.
『– Tsrrrt. Oh, I see. But Mommy, we’re hiding right now.』
Was she trying to shift the topic?
Nevertheless, her comment surprised Hwa-eun.
『Hiding?』
– Tstsrr. (Yes! We’re hiding in the grass!)
‘So-ryong, what is Hyang referring to?’
She had thought it was a game, but now her tone became worried.
『Well, you see… this is what occurred… and… so we’re just hiding for a little while.』
I gave a quick summary—tiles falling from the roof, doors collapsing, windows flying open.
After listening, Hwa-eun’s reply was full of puzzlement.
『But what are you hiding for?』
“What do you mean, ‘for what’? Because it’s a ghost!”
『I’m sorry?』
I was well aware that Hwa-eun wasn’t particularly sympathetic about these matters, but this felt excessive.
I said it again, but she still couldn’t comprehend.
『Wait—so it is a ghost… but why hide from it?』
“What do you mean, why!? Because it’s frightening, of course!”
– CRASH!
As if waiting for its cue, another tile came down from the ceiling, exploding into fragments on the ground.
“Eeeek!”
I couldn’t stop a shrill cry.
Through our connection, I sensed Hwa-eun’s utter bewilderment.
『So-ryong, I truly don’t understand.』
“What’s not to understand?! Another tile just fell! This ghost is clearly targeting us!”
I felt genuinely offended by her response.
But her next statement landed with the force of a physical blow.
『I simply cannot comprehend why you, of all people, would be frightened by ghosts.』
“What? I feel fear too, alright!? I’m not some unshakable, heroic, tough guy all the time!”
『That isn’t my point. My point is, you are constantly in the presence of a ghost. Even if it hasn’t been for very long…』
“…What?”
As I was grappling with her implication, she continued, sounding even more perplexed.
『I am referring to Cheong-yu Sojeo. She is also a ghost, correct? You are with her daily, and you even have formal meetings every full moon. So why would other ghosts scare you?』
I went still.
She was completely right.
The soul of Cheong-yu Sojeo had been assimilated into the form of the Golden Crown Death King.
By any definition, she was a ghost.
I interacted with her regularly.
So… why was I so afraid?
Was it simply because this ghost was unfamiliar?
It was akin to keeping a pet snake but still being afraid of snakes in the wild.
It made no logical sense.
‘Yes… she has a point. Why was I scared? Merely because this ghost didn’t belong to me?’
The moment that thought took hold, the fear started to dissolve—like mist clearing away.

***
–Ssshhhh.
The constant patter of rain turned into a blanket of white noise.
It is called white noise because it has a consistent frequency, much like white light.
Some people find that white noise improves focus for studying, and it can also soothe the mind and body, promoting deeper sleep.
We were all asleep, wrapped in the white noise of the heavy rainfall.
It was then that a harsh sound cut through the steady hum near our ears.
–CRASH!
At that jarring noise rising above the rain, we all stirred and looked toward its source.
“Again?”
–Tsrrr.
–Kyuit!
The rain showed no indication of letting up, and just as before, we were spending another night in the derelict temple—but the disturbances weren’t just continuing from yesterday.
Roof tiles and doors continued to shake or fall, repeatedly jolting us from our sleep.
By now, it wasn’t frightening—it was just a nuisance.
“Is the fire out?”
I opened my eyes to look at the campfire, where the last embers glowed weakly like fireflies.
I desperately wanted to go back to sleep, but the fire needed tending.
The ghost tended to remain still whenever the flames were ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) strong.
I took a bunch of dry reeds from under me and threw them onto the embers, but the fire had weakened too much to catch quickly.
I assumed I would need to get close and blow on it to revive it.
“Ugh, all that smoke… what a hassle.”
The thought of coughing and being smeared with ash made me grimace, when I noticed something pale in the darkness.
–Rustle.
I reached out and seized it—and recognized it immediately.
“This is oiled paper?”
It was the oiled paper I’d used to wrap jerky when I first got here.
Normal paper burns adequately, but oiled paper?
Even weak embers like these should ignite it fast.
–Shhhk.
I smoothed out the paper, ripped a section off, and threw it into the fire.
Instantly, fire leaped up.
Just as I expected—the oiled paper caught quickly and passed the flame to the reeds.
As the fire grew, I placed a few more logs on it and considered saving the remaining oiled paper for later.
But as I started to fold it, something unusual caught my attention.
“Why is it torn this way?”
The torn edge of the paper looked odd.
The section that had been chewed by the ‘rat’ the previous day.
It was unmistakably suspicious.
I’d blamed a rat for chewing through the oiled paper and stealing the jerky inside. At the time, I’d been too upset about the lost food to inspect the paper properly—but this was definitely not a rat’s work.
A rat would have gnawed a rough hole.
But the tear I was looking at was clean—as if made by a blade.
‘Wait, it can’t be.’
The idea hit me with sudden clarity.
I had thought the jerky thief was a rat and the ghost causing havoc was separate—but now I suspected they might be one and the same.
To make a cut like this, either a person used a tool, or…
I glanced at Hongdan, who was sleeping by the fire.
More specifically—I looked at Hongdan’s tail.
A tail like that could certainly slice paper neatly.
‘Given my recent streak of luck, this wouldn’t even be that shocking.’
Considering how frequently I’ve been encountering poisonous beings and spirit beasts lately, the idea seemed entirely plausible.
Perhaps some venomous or spectral creature that lived alone in this old temple was upset about our intrusion.
I raised my voice quickly, in case the thing was nearby and listening.
“Ahem! Listen, if you’re a ghost or something, stop being so selfish! Where else can we go in this downpour!?”
At my loud exclamation, a red shimmer appeared on the wall.
Sister Jeokwol, who had been concealing herself, became visible.
–Chii.
She seemed to be asking why I was shouting in the middle of the night, so I rushed over and spoke softly.
[Ma’am, I suspect there may be a venomous or spiritual creature in here. Would you discreetly spread your butterfly dust throughout the interior?]
Without a sound, her antennae moved and the powder began to float from her wings, dispersing in all directions.
As it drifted, the red powder faded and became one with the environment.
The dust floated up toward the holes in the ceiling and the rafters.
Whatever this being was, if it entered, it would be trapped for certain.
Before returning to bed, I shifted the materials blocking the hole in the corner and left just one burning log, grinding it to put it out faster.
I didn’t know its nature, but it only appeared in darkness, so I ensured the fire would die quickly.
Then, I lay down in the dark and shut my eyes, concentrating all my awareness.
–Ssshhhh.
–Drip, drip.
The rain continued to pour, and water leaked through the hole.
Soon, the log seemed to die out and the room became even darker.
I focused, straining to detect any sign of movement.
–Ssshhh. Ssshh.
–Drip. Drop. Drip.
Amid the rhythm of the rain and dripping water, another sound began to mix in.
–Tap. Ttock. Ttododok.
‘That’s it!’
Something light was moving across the roof tiles above, through the pouring rain.
The sound approached the hole in the ceiling, and the steady dripping became uneven.
Something was definitely near that opening.
–Thunk. Thud.
I quickly activated the Myoa Am Night Vision Technique and searched the ceiling, but without any moon or starlight, the technique provided insufficient illumination to see clearly.
Then I saw it.
Something peered down through the ceiling.
Eyes shining in the blackness.
And in that moment—
It seemed Sister Jeokwol’s butterfly dust had also drifted up near the ceiling. The creature shuddered, lost its footing, and fell through with a roof tile.
–CRASH!
‘Did I get it!?’
I leaped up and ran toward the noise—but a piercing shriek rang out.
–CHIIIII!
At the cry, I retreated—just barely avoiding the attack that shot toward me.
–Slish!
The edge of my clothing was cut as a powerful floral odor washed over me.
The instant I inhaled it, my head swam.
“Poison!?”
Alarmed, I activated my poison resistance to counter the invading toxin.
Fortunately, it wasn’t a deadly or severe poison—but its effect was unusual.
My senses grew fuzzy, and when I intended to move my right hand, my left hand moved instead—a neurotoxin that disrupted my nerve signals.
As I fought to regain control, the creature scurried through the hole in the corner and disappeared.
“Damn. It escaped.”
It seemed to have gotten away.
I sat back down, working to purge the poison from my system, when Sister Jeokwol’s cry sounded.
–Chiiiii.
Her butterfly dust glowed red, streaming back into her body.
And curiously, the route the creature took was marked by glowing red traces—like footprints—leading directly to the hole.
A fresh pursuit was beginning.